


Check Yes Or No

by Qinderella



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Luke has never been kissed, M/M, Oral Sex, Post A New Hope, Pre Empire Strikes Back, Romance, lots of whining, slight jealousy, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qinderella/pseuds/Qinderella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke really needs to know if Han likes him, so he does what any sheltered farm boy would do--he gives him a note to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check Yes Or No

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired my other half, who regrettably doesn't have an archive account.

“Luke?” As Leia spoke, she didn’t immediately look away from the screen that she was gazing at, as it was absorbing far more of her attention than her small question for Luke was. She only half-heartedly waited for her companion to reply, until no such reply came. Then she looked away from the monitor and over at her golden-haired companion, who was sitting across the room from her, gazing off into metaphorical, and literal, space, as he was staring out the front window, and not acknowledging that she’d spoken whatsoever. “Luke?” After a second time of being ignored, Leia’s patience hit a dead end and she pushed herself up and out of her chair, clapping her hands and watching as Luke jolted in his chair. She almost laughed.   

“Luke? Hey, paging Luke Skywalker, anybody home?”

She watched him intently as he tried to recover from his fright, rubbing a hand against the back of his head and shifting in his chair slightly, and that’s when she laughed.

“Sorry, Leia,” he blinked up at her, whatever space he’d been lost to seemingly gone now, though he did glance around the room, as if to confirm that they were indeed alone. Man, he must have really been out of it, Han hadn’t really been all that quiet when he’d left earlier and Chewbacca, while, Chewbacca was rarely quiet. Maybe it was jedi thing. Or an almost-jedi thing, she supposed.

“I just got kind of lost,” Luke continued, continuing to stare sweetly up at her, as though his attention would never lie elsewhere again. It almost made Leia feel bad for giving him a hard time, and tendrils of affection unfolded within her chest. Luke was very good-hearted, and while she had known many good-hearted people in her time, those who aided her in the rebellion, who stood up for what they believed in, none had managed to maintain the optimism and purity that she felt in the heart of Luke Skywalker. She would sooner see the sun go out than the light in his heart. “Did you need me for something?” he asked, shifting in his chair again and uncrossing his legs, then recrossing them almost immediately.

Leia shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I was just going to ask if you’d mind taking a look at the wiring for the display system sometime tonight. It’s fine, I just think that the calibration is a smidge off. Nothing I can’t live with, but I figured I’d ask. I already checked the wiring and it looked good, I just wanted a second pair of eyes, and I didn’t want Han’s, because they’d come with his comments, too.”

Luke smiled gently and nodded. “Of course, sure--I’ll take a look for you before I go to bed tonight.”

Nodding and saying her thanks, Leia considered reaching out and ruffling Luke’s hair, but ultimately decided against it, as the moment just didn’t feel quite right, and instead settled for placing a hand gently on his shoulder, squeezing, then returning to her seat. She’d just settled into a comfortable position, curling her legs up under her and resuming her reading with a relatively clear mind, when the silence was broken again, this time by Luke.

“Hey, Leia… Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah,” Leia replied, and she knew that he knew that of course, he could ask her a question, so he obviously was just stalling for time before actually asking.

“Have you--how do you--Do you have a boyfriend?”

The question came flying in from left field at light speed, and it would’ve knocked Leia straight out of her chair if it had been a tangible object, rather than five words, left to drift in the space between them. Before she could answer, Luke blabbered on, obviously growing disquieted in the situation.

“Or a girlfriend, sorry--”

Leia raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not what you think--oh, what I mean is--”

“No,” Leia finally said firmly, taking a little pity on Luke, but mostly she was just unable to watch him struggle through his question anymore. For all that the force was with him, common sense sure wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be--Me and my friends back home used to talk about all the girls and guys we’d date at The Academy, you know there weren’t a lot of options around on Tatooine, so it was all just talk.”

Leia was sure this wasn’t just a pitiful attempt at making small talk, but she wasn’t cruel enough to needle Luke on his reasons for bringing it up, and if his reason was what she hoped, then she wanted him to tell her on his own accord, so instead of questioning his intentions, she went along with it. She swivelled her chair around, tucking her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them casually as she gazed across the room at Luke, who was sitting similarly in his chair. “Yeah. It’s difficult to find time to date while leading a rebellion, you know?”

Luke didn’t know, but he nodded anyway, and stared intently at Leia as she continued, though his eyes had almost began to glaze over.

“I had a few before...well, before all of this. Growing up, you know. Nothing too serious, just puppy love.”

Luke nodded again, even though it was another life experience he and Leia had not shared. He’d always imagined the girls and boys he’d date at The Academy, they would be pretty, of course, with smiles worth remembering. Some days, when he felt restless and rebellious, they would be from a rich family, with a flashy homeland, and other days, when he felt lonely and small, they would understand moisture farming and his humble beginnings. Ultimately, though, they would _like_ him. Really, really like him. And just as Luke. Not as some famous pilot, or some legendary jedi--not that he hadn’t fantasized about those life paths a fair number of times--but when he thought of his first love, they didn’t love him for what he was, they loved him for who he was. And they always swept in, completely confident and sure of themselves, and told him. Then they would embrace, and music would rise, and then Aunt Beru would be calling for him to come down to dinner, and he would be pulled from his fantasy. “Leia, can I--”

“Yes,” she responded without hesitation, letting her legs slide from the chair and poising herself on the edge of it.

Luke was a little surprised by her quick answer, and then cleared his throat. “How did you tell those people...well, how’d you tell them that you like them?”

Leia blinked, obviously a little caught off guard by the question, but then she melted all the same, smiling and shaking her head. “Oh, Luke… I don’t know. You don’t really tell people, do you? You just kind of...you know. It’s everything, you know? It’s the way that they talk to you, the way they say your name, like it’s their favourite random assortment of sounds, the way they look at you, like they always want to kiss you, at least a little…”

Luke visibly slumped, and scoffed a little, almost pouting. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that either, so.” He hadn’t really meant to say it outloud, but he was tired and his brain-to-mouth filter was suffering.

The window of opportunity was there and Leia didn’t just climb through, she jumped through, sliding out of her chair and walking over to where Luke was sitting. With absolutely no fanfare or hesitation, she straddled his lap, bracing her hands on either side of the chair behind his head. “Well, do you want to?” she asked bluntly, her chest pressing against Luke’s with every inhale.  Luke didn’t balk at this contact, and he seemed comfortable enough, though perhaps not as receptive as she hoped he would be. However, she didn’t let this dampen her mood and instead pressed even closer into his space, looking down at him until he tilted his head up to look into her eyes. Their noses almost bumped.

“Yes--” Luke had barely breathed, when footsteps and profanity quickly brought their moment crashing to a halt.

With all the grace and tact of a Hutt raiding a china shop, Han barrelled into the room before either Luke or Leia had a chance to react. He was still wearing his clothes from earlier, but his shirt was completely unbuttoned and his hair was sticking up in random clumps, showing that he obviously had fallen asleep somewhere in the time between when he’d left earlier, and now. His eyes had initially gone to Leia’s, now-empty, chair, then had slotted over to Luke’s, where he saw Leia sitting in Luke’s lap. No, no, _straddling_ Luke’s lap. Luke looked mildly horrified, but Leia simply had to bite back a laugh. Han looked shocked, beyond shocked, and for once, didn’t seem to have anything to say. She stared at him, as if to prompt _‘yeah?’_ and raised an eyebrow at him, which finally got him to splutter out a greeting.

“Geez.” Well, if you could count it as that. “No wonder you guys were so okay with me leaving earlier.”

Leia rolled her eyes grandly, and didn’t move from her position, though she was fairly certain that Luke may have died underneath her. She continued to look at Han, who finally lilted uncomfortably, looking away from his two companions and snatching a tablet off the table. “I just forgot something out here, came back for it, that’s all, I’m leaving now, okay--”

“That?” Leia asked, with that damn amusement in her voice that made Han want to yell about nothing.

“Not for me--Chewie likes to play with it, okay? Best give him something to do so I can actually get some freakin’ sleep, something the two of you obviously won’t be getting--”

“Out of line!” Leia snapped, blood rushing to her face, angry that he was making such an assumption, even if she had essentially goaded him into it.

“Yeah, well--right back at ya!” A weak comeback, maybe, but Han was tired and a little confused, and a whole lot of other things he wasn’t planning on dealing with until he got more whiskey and less fucked up. “There are quarters on this thing for a reason--use ‘em!”

“Oh for _God’s sake_ \--!”

Luke finally seemed to have recovered, at least a little bit, and he poked his head up above the headrest so he could look at Han also. “You aren’t interrupting us,” he said softly, though his voice betrayed no specific emotions.

Han stared at him for a moment or so too long, then huffed. “Yeah, I know I’m not, I’m going to bed.”

He left, just as abruptly as he’d came, and neither Luke nor Leia could help the twinges of guilt they felt after the encounter. Neither had meant to upset him, Leia just didn’t feel like she had to explain herself, and Luke didn’t know how to.

Luke’s hands finally came to rest on Leia’s waist, slowly, as he looked up her remorsefully. “I’m sorry, Leia. I didn’t mean to--I’m sorry.”

She understood, what he said and what he didn’t, and she simply leaned in to kiss his forehead, before withdrawing herself from his lap. “Don’t worry about Han. I’ll talk to him tomorrow, if he’s still in a twit.” She paused, and continued to look at Luke, who was still perched in the chair, looking as if he had no plans of getting up at any point in the near future. “I should probably try to get some sleep myself. You okay?”

Luke nodded, and his gaze was emotional and nondescript. He bid her a good night, even going as far as to smile at her as she left, simply because Leia made him smile. He’d said yes to her, and it had been true. He _did_ want to know more about kissing, and he wouldn’t have even minded learning from her, under different circumstances. But under these ones...well, he might have enjoyed it in the moment, but in the long run, it would’ve made everything even harder. He knew that Leia liked him, but he also knew that she mostly liked him to spite Han, and that she knew, even under her desire to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe, that they would always make better friends than anything else. From the moment that he’d laid eyes upon her, he’d felt an uncanny, unbreakable bond with her. He truly did feel nothing but affection for her, and if he could keep her safe--though honestly, he knew she did a fine job of that herself--then he would consider himself a success, and he didn’t want to cheapen that, by turning her into his first kiss at 4 in the morning while he was really still thinking about...someone else.

Luke sighed, out loud and loudly, now that he was finally alone. He swung out of his chair and restlessly moved over to the control panel, figuring he might as well take a look at the wiring for Leia, while he was still awake and suffering. Something familiar might ease his troubled mind.

He had been sincere in his questions for Leia, about how she had told her past boyfriends that she liked him. Yes, Luke knew that Leia liked him--she felt the same unspeakable kinship with him that he felt with her--his uncertainties lay elsewhere. He tugged on a red wire, until it clicked, and felt sorry for himself.

He liked Han, there was no point in beating around the bush with himself. He would’ve told Leia, if it weren’t so damn embarrassing, because _of course_ he liked Han. It was so predictable that he was annoying himself. He’d been trapped on Tatooine his entire life, with nothing but stories of the galaxy so unknown to him. Han was older, had seen more of the galaxy, hung out in space bars and knew how to fly real spaceships. Granted, when they’d first met, Luke had wanted to knock his perfect lights out because if there was anything Luke _hated_ , it was being talked down to, but even then, he’d recognized that Han was, doubtlessly, the most attractive and interesting person he’d ever met. Not that the bar had been set very high in Luke’s life.

Luke did not like to think of himself as sheltered. Though his life on Tatooine had been far from riveting, and even after being taken in by Obi-Wan, there were still so many life experiences he’d yet to have, Luke did not like to think that he was sheltered. Of course he had a little growing up to do, but that was normal for anyone of his age.

Not liking something didn’t make it any less true. And like it or not, less than two months ago, he’d still been dreaming about The Academy, begging his uncle to let him leave early, and trying to get out of The Harvest. It was so provincial, and Luke knew it. And no amount of Jedi training or honest to God fights with The Empire in those two months could make up for the _years_ that Luke had spent in his simple existence, where going to town and looking at power-converters with his friends was the most exciting thing he could really do, sans a few desert adventures when he was twelve or thirteen, that had resulted in his getting grounded for almost a whole month. Luke was young, a lot younger than Han, and it might have irritated him to always have the lower hand, but he’d at least made peace with the fact that Han was never going to _like_ him, the way that Luke liked him.

At least, that’s what he’d thought at first. That Han was just out to get his money, then leave. He wasn’t interested in playing hero, and Luke needed a hero. But then, as Han changed, so did everything else, and for a moment or two, Luke began to wonder if the way Han’s eyes would linger on him every once in awhile, or the way that he had Luke’s back, no matter how much he complained about it, or the way that, once, their hands had touched over the console and Han had just kind of allowed it for a moment or two, before noncommittally pulling away, if it all meant something. One time, Luke had _totally_ caught Han staring at him while he was doing some jedi training exercises, and when Luke had noticed, he’d missed the orb by at least a foot and it practically hit him in the face. Instead of laughing, or making a jab about Luke’s hair, though, Han simply looked away, staring into his glass for the next twenty minutes, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gawking at the jedi for _at least_ forty-five seconds just moments before. At the time, Luke had written it off as just an odd moment, but he had been foolish enough to wonder just a _little_ …

Then, last night had happened, and Luke _really_ began to wonder.

.

.

It had been an average night, like any other night aboard The Millennium Falcon went. They would typically all gravitate to the same room, and simply co-inhabit it. Talking was rare, except for occasional noises...comments made by Chewbacca that Han would either nod or shake his head to, or occasional sniping between Leia and Han that always ended in a stalemate. Usually Han and Chewbacca would sit at the table, either playing a game or messing around with some type of electronic. Leia would sit in a chair, typically reading, or going over old schematics. Luke would sit in another chair, sometimes fidgeting with his lightsaber, flicking it on and off, which got annoying very quickly. Either Han or Leia would level him with a glare, and he would stop, resorting to half-heartedly messing with the closest object, but mostly just lost in his own head. It wasn’t interactive, but night after night, they would continue this routine, all eventually communing in the room, and sitting together in silence until the early hours of the morning, when someone would eventually break the trance and say they were going to bed. It didn’t seem like much, but it was companionship, more than any of them had been able to have in a long while. Sitting quietly was enough, because maybe they were all alone, but they were alone together, and that was really the best that anyone could ask for in such a lonely galaxy. It was nights like this that Luke felt luckier than he was. He’d lost so much, in such a short amount of time, and while there was so much behind him, there was so much ahead of him, too. And he knew he would probably have to face much of it alone, so at least he wasn’t alone on nights aboard the Millennium Falcon. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough.

However, last night, apparently Leia had decided that the silence was too loud, because after about forty-five minutes of their usual routine quiet co-inhabitation, she’d dropped the manual she was reading, and before anyone could look up, she was snatching a small radio out of Chewbacca’s hands. The wookiee made a confused, melancholy noise and gazed at her, and Han immediately dropped what he was doing and shot up. “Hey--!”

Leia held up her hand to silence him and then fiddled with one of the radio knobs for a moment. There was crackling, then silence, then there was music. Chewbacca made another noise, a happier one this time, as he stared at the radio in Leia’s hands, placated. Han scrunched his face up, then muttered something that sounded like _oh lord,_ and Luke smiled. He didn’t know the specific song, but it sounded a lot like the music he used to listen to on Tatooine. There was a comforting familiarity about it, not to mention a lightness that he wasn’t sure they’d ever had on board.

Luke was sort of gently bopping his head to the music, and he watched as Leia set the radio down on the table and then extended a hand towards Han. Han stared at her, then snorted and shook his head. “ _I don’t dance._ ”

Luke released a breath he hadn’t known that he was holding, and watched as Leia huffed, obviously annoyed and burned by the other’s refusal. However, she wasn’t downtrodden for long, and didn’t waste a second to flounce across the room and offer her hand to Luke instead. Instead of feeling downcast at being Leia’s second choice for a dance partner, Luke smiled and happily followed Leia out onto the floor. Han over exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. Chewbacca made another happy sounding growl as he watched his two companions begin to move, and Han glared at him.

At first, the dancing was as awkward as anyone could really anticipate. There was a lot of foot-stepping and a few muttered _sorrys_ and stilted movements. However, as the song flowed on, so did Luke and Leia, and once they managed a successful turn, the awkwardness seemed to melt away, and the cabin was filled with nothing but laughter and the rhythmic beat of the song.

It was about mid-way through the next song that Han muttered an explicative and pushed himself up from where he was sitting, and joined his two companions on the makeshift dance floor.

“ _I don’t dance_ ,” Leia mocked, turning away from Han and glancing over her shoulder with a triumphant smile playing on her mouth. Han told her to shut up, settling for dancing close to her, but not with her, and Luke just laughed, closing his eyes for a few moments and focusing on nothing but the music for a moment. The movements of dancing came easy to Luke and he got easily lost in them. Dancing was something he’d never really gotten to do anywhere but in the relative privacy of his room growing up. There weren’t exactly a lot of discotheques on Tatooine, and his friends hadn’t been the type to flip on the radio and dance around for no reason. However, Luke surprisingly didn’t feel too self-conscious dancing in front of Han and Leia, and easily dismissed his inhibition in order to dance around the room.  

Luke was so lost in his own swingy movements, occasionally closing his eyes and running his hands up and through his hair, that he didn’t notice Leia retreat off the dancefloor, taking Han’s seat near Chewbacca and watching the two dancing men with a small smile of bemusement. Luke didn’t notice that he and Han were the only two dancing, until he spun around and physically collided with the other, tripping ungracefully, hands flying out and flailing in a desperate attempt to try and balance himself.

Han had quick reflexes and he grabbed Luke the first place he could--his waist--to steady him. “Whoa there, kid,” he said with a slight laugh, though it sounded a little forced. He hadn’t completely stopped moving to the song and neither had Luke, though his hands reflexively sought out Han’s shoulders to steady himself, and he found himself leaning into the other more than he intended to. Han didn’t seem burdened though, as Luke was light and easy to manhandle, and he found his fingers curling into Luke’s sides, until he saw the jedi wince in pain from the unexpected tightened grip. “ _Shit_ \--”

Luke was breathing heavier than he needed to be breathing, and if Obi Wan could see him now--Gods, Luke hoped he _couldn’t_ \--he would’ve been ashamed at how little control Luke seemed to be having over his body. Han was warm, so warm, and _solid_ , and when his fingers dug into Luke’s sides, Luke audibly gasped, and it was only half from the pain of it.

Still, neither of them moved away, though Luke had easily regained his balance, and their close proximity didn’t quite match the tempo of the song. Han was looking into his eyes and Luke bit his lip, eyes sparkling as he curiously looked back, and Han groaned, Luke couldn’t hear it, but he could feel it in Han’s chest. Without thinking, Luke’s hands slid down from Han’s shoulders, as Han was _just_ enough taller that it was a little uncomfortable, and came to rest flat on his chest. Now it was Han’s turn to bite his lip and he did, glancing down at Luke’s hands splayed against his chest, then glancing back up into Luke’s overly blue eyes.

Leia laughed, though the sound seemed to dissolve as soon as it left her mouth, and there was something unfinished about the sound.

That’s when Han pulled away, casually, quipping, “watch where you’re goin’ next time, kid,” as if they hadn’t just been closer than they’d ever been before, as if Luke hadn’t felt Han’s heart beating just a little too fast beneath his palm. Luke had blinked, and watched as Han swaggered back to the table, flipping off the radio and telling Leia to move.

She’d retorted _you move_ but had moved back to her own chair all the same, no keener on giving up her honorary seat than Han was his. The silence stretched on then, and now it felt deafening.

After a few minutes of fiddling, Chewbacca turned the music back on. Han allowed it, but there was no more dancing.

.

.

 

Okay, _come on_ . That was something, right? Luke knew that he could be...imaginative at times, but hey, his intuition was obviously pretty good, as he’d ended up being a jedi legacy, not just some mundane moisture farmer. And he certainly hadn’t _imagined_ the way that Han felt when they were, sort of, dancing together. So, maybe him thinking that maybe Han... _liked_ him, wasn’t as far fetched as he originally thought. Maybe all the bickering and unnecessary competition and eyerolls were indicative of a different type of frustration than Luke initially thought. That thought made him blush.

And that’s where Luke hit a wall. He had the _inkling_ that _maybe_ Han liked him afterall, and no idea with what to do about it. Maybe if he were more brash and experienced, he’d walk straight up to the smuggler with unwavering eye contact, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and kiss him square on the mouth. He wasn’t, though; Luke had never been kissed, and if he was wrong, if Han pushed him off and replied with _what the hell, man?!_ then Luke wouldn’t be able to handle it. He could handle rejection he supposed, but not of that scale. No, Luke needed something more subtle than that. That’s why he’d asked Leia what he asked her, about how she’d approached her past boyfriends. He was hoping she would perhaps shine some light on his situation and enlighten him on what he should do. He didn’t exactly have anyone to turn to, after all, he was pretty sure this wasn’t an appropriate question to take to a jedi master.

Her answer, however, had been unsatisfactory. _You just sort of know_ . Well, no, he _didn’t_ just know, that was the whole entire problem, and _he_ had the force, so he highly doubted anyone else just knew either.

Luke huffed, bottom lip protruding slightly as he halfheartedly tapped the display screen to see if his tinkering had made any difference. It just wasn’t _fair_! What was the point of all this intuition if he couldn’t even tell something as simple as whether Han Solo wanted to kiss him or not?

He really did need more jedi training. He had the feeling that Obi Wan had probably always known whether somebody wanted to kiss him or not. But he really would like to kiss Han _before_ he became a Jedi master, so, he was just going to have to get old school.

Tatooine may have been a desert in more ways than one, but every once in awhile, some pretty girl or boy would crop up, and Luke had watched a few of his friends during their courtships. They always did them the exact same way, Luke had watched them, and he figured, if it ain’t broke...

Satisfied with the display screen, Luke pushed himself up determinedly and tossed a few things around until he finally found a good old fashioned paper and pen. Then he began to write…

There. After this, at least he would know. Then he could either lose his kissing virginity or nurse a broken heart, but either way, it would be better than not knowing.

Luke folded the paper and tucked it away in his poncho, deciding that he really ought to get some sleep after all. He would worry about all of this again tomorrow, then hopefully he’d never have to worry about it again.

. . .

 

The morning came, and less awkwardly than Luke expected it to. He was the last one out of his quarters, and everyone was already settled in and finished with breakfast by the time he came out, which made him sigh internally, dejected. He hated when he slept through breakfast. Leia had left the blue milk out for him, though, and he did perk up a little over that. She and Han had been talking, he heard the sound of their voices, but couldn’t make out specific words, and they appeared to have stopped when he came through the doorway. Either they had been talking about something inconsequential, or they didn’t want him to hear. Luke didn’t angst too much about it, he was too tired to angst about much of anything, and instead he rubbed his eyes with a small yawn and poured himself a glass of milk before giving his companions a small smile and a _good morning_. Leia returned his greeting, and Han more or less did, as well, so Luke figured that last night was well forgotten, or Leia had made good on her word and explained that nothing had happened. Or Han just didn’t care, but Luke’s nonexistent money was not on that. No way he wouldn’t have had approximately twenty-five different snarky, potentially bitter, comments to make if he honestly thought that his companions were...involved. Han had a thing for being the center of attention, even if he didn’t admit it, and didn’t always take well to Luke and Leia’s rather close relationship.

The atmosphere felt safe enough, though, so Luke, glass of milk still in hand, slid into the booth next to Han. He kept his distance, but still glanced over and offered a small smile, as Han glanced up, clearly a little surprised but unphased at Luke’s presence.

Luke considered just sitting there and letting the room lapse into silence, as he sipped his milk, but ultimately decided to take his chances speaking. Sometimes it didn’t end up being a _total_ disaster when he did. “How did you sleep?” he finally asked, blinking his large eyes and glancing over at his companion curiously.

Han snorted, because _of course_ , he couldn’t just accept a perfectly normal question, and it set Luke’s teeth on edge. He answered, though, which might’ve meant something. “Fine. Well, as fine as I could with this one snoring in the top bunk all night,” Han replied, jerking a thumb towards Chewbacca, who made a noise in what Luke assumed was protest. Han replied with a muttered _‘yeah, yeah’_ and playfully brushed the wookiee off, which made Luke reflexively smile. He had been expecting the silence to return full force, but instead, was surprised when Han continued speaking. “What about you, kid? Did you get enough beauty sleep? You still need your full eight hours, don’t you?”

Luke narrowed his eyes, and defiantly took a sip of his milk before answering. The drink may have been a little more convincing had it been whiskey or fireball, but Luke didn’t like the taste, and it burned his throat, and besides, who drank fireball at eight in the morning? Well, apparently Han, from one look at his empty glass next to the half-eaten mess that Leia had most likely stuck in front of him. “I slept _fine_ , thanks,” he replied, and it wasn’t his snazziest comeback, “I manage fine with my three hours, though.”

Han snorted again, and Luke’s bottom lip protruded more than it already was, and if Luke hadn’t been staring so intently at his milk, he might’ve seen the widening of Han’s pupils. “ _Fine_ , Princess?” he teased, and Luke huffed, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Well, at least I don’t have anyone snoring in my ear,” Luke retorted, and Han had been intending on dropping it, but when Luke even _gift wrapped_ the bait he was dropping at his feet, well...how could he not take it?

Han gave a purposeful drag of his eyes down Luke’s form then back up, then cocked his head just slightly with a smug smile. “Yeah? And do you want to change that?” he asked, voice dropping an octave for effect.

Though it had all been for show, Luke fell for it hook, line, and sinker, and choked on his milk. “ _No!_ ” Was the first word out of his mouth, and then of course Han decided to play innocent and retort, “I was just going to offer to let you bunk with Chewie if you wanted some comforting white noise at night.” as if he hadn’t just looked at Luke like he were dinner, and Luke found it frustrating, but he also kind of liked it, and he was still staring at Han when Leia interrupted by speaking.

“We should be landing at a resistance base within the hour,” she chirped up from where she was sitting, slightly away from the table and preoccupied with something else. Luke couldn’t tell if she’d actually been paying attention to them or not, though his inclination told him, no, not really. Leia was pretty good at tuning people out. “There, we’ll be able to make headway strategizing, and I can check in with my team.”

Han shrugged in response as a non-verbal acknowledgement, and Luke murmured an affirmative, resisting the impulse to wriggle under Leia’s gaze. Reflexively, his hand moved to clutch at his robe, where a small slip of paper was tucked carefully into his pocket. He smoothed his fingers over the material, to make sure the paper was still intact, even though he already knew that it was. It was just a small compulsion; he was a little nervous.

“Alright, I'm going to make sure that that the coordinates are good, make sure Princess here,” Han nodded in Leia’s direction, and Luke wondered if there was any significance in any subconscious way in the fact that he’d referred to both him and Leia as such in the span of five minutes, “don’t send us into a blackhole or anythin’.” Han shoved up from the table and Luke gazed up at him, a little downcast over the fact that he was leaving before Luke had even finished his milk.

Leia got understandably offended at the comment and shouted something at Han, then stormed after him as he headed into the cockpit. She knew as well as Luke did that he only made those type of comments to deflect, it was his default mode of interaction. Han never talked about his past, not really anyway, but Luke surmised that it hadn’t been filled with too many genuine interactions. Though his life certainly hadn’t been all flower fields and sunshine, he had truly loved his aunt and uncle and his friends from Tatooine, even though all he’d ever wanted was to get off that god-forsaken planet. And from what Leia told him of her upbringing, she had cared for her family and friends as well. Han didn’t strike him as the type who had much of a family, or the type of friends that he could sleep soundly around, sans Chewbacca. Then again, Luke may have been pushing that onto the other man, drawing off his preconceived notion of a smuggler’s life. It was rough tough and almost criminal, Luke thought--the kind of guys he was around growing up wouldn’t have actually had the gumption to transport strangers for money, no. They may have craved adventure, but not that kind. Everything Luke had ever been around growing up was soft. Han was a rough edge that Luke wanted to cut his finger on.

With determination, Luke tipped his head back and chugged the rest of his milk, then stood up and flounced off towards the cockpit.

. . .

Of course the coordinates Leia had put in were perfectly fine, just as Han knew they would be, but that didn’t mean he was going to admit any fault in his statement. Instead he shot, “no harm in double checkin’,” her way, and felt some semblance of satisfaction when she groaned in frustration. He liked Leia, honestly and genuinely, although that was another thing he was never going to admit. She was savvy, competent, and strong, and while Han respected it, he also had no idea what to do when confronted with it. He wasn’t used to being around people like her. Luke was just as competent and strong, in his own ways, but he was also whiny and petulant--he _acted_ his age and it made it a lot easier for Han to dismiss him. Leia would not be dismissed so easily, but _he_ wasn’t about to admit any fault, so they ended up at their usual stalemate.

She stormed out, saying something along the lines of _why don’t you just drop dead?,_ just as Chewbacca entered, making a curious noise at Leia, then a vaguely accusatory one at Han.

“Hey, don’t take her side!” Han batted the air in the vague direction of the wookiee, before bracing his hands against the headrest of the pilot’s seat, glancing down at the display screens.

About forty-five seconds later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt breath against the back of his neck and an arm sneak around his waist. Of course he’d registered a presence behind him, but he’d assumed it was Chewie. Then, he’d noticed that his furry friend had already taken his seat in the co-pilot’s spot, and that realization came at about the same time that a hand slid something into his front shirt pocket, then retreated.

Han spun around, though he’d already figured out it was Luke, and gave the boy a confused look. “What the hell, kid?” he asked, reaching up to feel at his shirt pocket indignantly. Luke just sort of giggled, gazing up through his eyelashes, and gave him one of the sweetest smiles he’d ever seen, then scuttled off, back towards the direction of the ship’s quarters. Han furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head when Chewbacca asked him what that had been about. He reached up to his pocket, withdrawing what Luke had slid in, which was a small scrap of paper. At first, Han assumed it was new coordinates or a message from Leia, since she was probably too pissed to talk to him, and he started to roll his eyes. However, when he actually read it, he found that it wasn’t coordinates at all.

_Do you like me?_

_Yes _____

_No  _____

If Han had to pick just one moment in all of his twenty-nine years in the galaxy when he was truly flabbergasted, he would’ve picked this one, hands down, without a second thought. Was this some sort of joke? And if it was, was it supposed to be funny?

Chewbacca made another, more impatient, inquiry, and Han finally extended the note towards his friend, who took it with large paws and gazed at it, making some soft musing noises as he gazed at it. If it was foreign to Han, it was certainly foreign to Chewbacca, but of course, the traitor seemed to like it, and he made a happy noise as he handed it back to Han.

“Is he serious?” Han demanded, glancing from the note to Chewbacca, then back again. Chewbacca did the wookiee equivalent of shrugging. “Is this some sort of joke I’m just not getting?” Chewbacca didn’t shrug this time and Han groaned, collapsing back into the seat, because really, he was asking questions he already knew the answer, too. This wasn’t a prank, it couldn’t be. That’s not who Luke was. No, Luke was earnest and sincere and bright-eyed, he wouldn’t make this kind of joke. And Han may have been old, and jaded, but he wasn’t _so_ out of touch that he genuinely didn’t understand the note. He had been a teenager once, too, and he’d been on the receiving end of notes like this a couple times, before he ran off and into a world where the only notes he got were written on the roof of his mouth with a stranger’s tongue, or on a ransom note in blood. This type of note was common with young people, with first crushes. It was _not_ common with men his age, though, and that should have been enough of a reason to crumple it up and drop it into Luke’s hand, or the waste bin. That’s not something he was about to do, though, so instead he just stared at, hoping that he would suddenly have the realisation that it was a joke, or that it was written in code, and that it _wasn’t_ Luke’s juvenile attempt at trying to know Han’s feelings towards him. Frankly, he thought that even Luke, young as he was, was a little too old to be writing notes like this. He reminded himself that Luke was sheltered, though, and it made a little more sense. While he didn’t know every detail of Luke’s personal history, he knew that the kid had grown up on a moisture farm, on a small, insignificant agriculture planet.  He knew that when he’d first laid eyes on Luke in that bar, and the blond had insisted that they need him, that _he_ could be the pilot, that he’d probably never left his home planet before, because he had way too much to prove for someone who had.

Han groaned and drug a hand over his face, resisting the urge to try and rip it off. Luke was so _young_ . He was only _nineteen_ , and that should have been enough to make Han put a giant X in the box next to no, because really, he was twenty-nine, and he was old enough to know that he should stay away from Luke, and his pouty lips and his big eyes and his whiny, little voice that made Han want to bend him over the nearest flat surface and _really_ give him something to whine about... _fuck_ . He was hopeless. He had known that Luke was beautiful since their first meeting, he wasn’t blind. But for a brief five minutes maybe, he’d thought that Luke was entirely too annoying and bratty for his beauty to amount to anything. However, there was something about Luke’s innocence that Han liked, and he knew how fucked up that sounded, which is why he never said it outloud, even to Chewie, but it wasn’t like that. Well, it was a little like that. The depraved part of him wanted to smear himself across Luke, like oil spilling over clean concrete, he wanted to stain Luke’s lips with his teeth and his skin with his fingertips. But that was just a small part of him. The larger part liked Luke’s innocence because made him feel...hopeful. Han had never believed in The Force, not really. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself and boasted about to others. Because in the world he’d always lived in, it made him superior for having control over his life--growing up Han had been _obsessed_ with having control over his own life, and if that meant saying to hell with The Force then so be it--but really, even people of his background would’ve liked to believe in something. But it was easier to believe in nothing, than to believe in something and be disappointed. However, all he needed to do was _look_ at Luke nowadays to see The Force. Luke was gifted, he was special...he was a hero. And what was more than that--he made Han want to be a hero. His hero. A hero’s hero.

So, check yes?

Absolutely not, he wasn’t going to check yes on Luke’s silly little note. He wasn’t that type of guy, and if Luke thought that he was, well he was even more naïve than Han thought.

Han’s eyes had glazed over, staring down at the love note, and he finally looked up when he heard the ship beep. T-minus fifteen minutes until arrival. He glanced over at Chewbacca, who asked what he was going to with the note. Han smirked, a little and reached for a pen. Oh, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

. . .

Ever since Luke had put the little note in Han’s pocket, he had been a ball of anxiety. He tried to remind himself that it didn’t matter whether Han checked yes or no, the point of this was just to _know_. Luke just wanted to know if all the little flirtations meant something, or if that’s just who Han was. If he checked no, it would be fine, wouldn’t it? They could still work together, still be friends, Luke could get over it. ...Luke really, really hoped that Han liked him. No one had ever liked him before; the once or twice Luke had given notes like this on Tatooine, he always got them back with a big X in the no box. He would always run home afterwards and keep himself tucked away in his bedroom, usually crying into his pillow, after getting the bad news.

He hoped that this time it would be different. After all, he and Han had saved Leia together. They had bonded.

He took a deep breath and fidgeted pointlessly. He felt like he’d been waiting _forever,_ and he felt a little whine escape his throat at the thought. It was _literally_ a yes or no question… what was taking so long?

Gods, what if he’d _completely_ missed the mark, so badly that Han didn’t even want to answer the note, let alone say yes?

Okay, no, maybe he was just being impatient--

A knock sounded firmly at his door.

“Han??”

Luke clasped a hand over his mouth after his outburst, as he knew how overeager it sounded. His cheeks coloured when a reply came after a long pause, “...Leia.”

“Oh, sorry, just hang on--come in!” Luke called, trying to act casual, like he hadn’t been pacing around his temporary quarters angsting about the note he’d just given Han.

Leia gave him a bit of a strange look when she came in, but she didn’t question him about it, which is really all he could ask for. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re about to land at base. Also, it’s really cold there, so you should bundle up.”

Luke nodded and gave her a soft _thanks_ and then gazed at her, as she didn’t leave immediately. She was gazing at him, as though there were something she wanted to say, but she never said it and turned around and left with a very small--resigned??--smile instead.

Well, that interaction hadn’t soothed any of his nerves, if anything it made him more nervous. They were docking, which meant that he would _have_ to see Han when they got off, and what if Han didn’t give him the note back? Then what?

They would just pretend it never happened. Or Luke would go off about it one night, when Han least expected it. But for a while, they would just pretend it never happened. An X in the no box was a rejection--not returning the note at all was a _resounding_ rejection.

Well, regardless of what kind of rejection it was, or _if_ it was rejection at all, Luke thought, trying to maintain his optimism, it was time to face it. The ship was landing and Luke couldn’t hide out in his quarters forever. It was time to put his feet back onto solid ground and face the music that he’d turned on.

So he squared his soldiers and made his way towards the ship exit where Leia was already standing. They waited there for a moment, and she reached over and took his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. She didn’t say anything, but Luke understood that it was just reaffirming all the work they’d already done, while simultaneously grieving all the work they still had to do. When they got off this ship, it was her game. Luke was okay with that. Jedi training was his game, he didn’t want to run the galaxy. His--Leia was perfectly capable of that. So, he would leave the rebelling to her.

When the doors opened, she squeezed his hand and then let go, so she could step out and greet the horde of rebels who were waiting to agree her. Luke heard her mention him, Han, and Chewbacca, but only peripherally, as he followed her off of the ship. He felt a little dizzy in anticipation, and he was focusing most of his energy to sum up all that control from his jedi training so he could keep his hands from shaking. This waiting had to be worse than any answer could be.

He stood dutifully by Leia, who was debriefing a nearby, nondescript person, and waited, unsubtly glancing towards the ship doors until Han and Chewbacca finally made their appearance. Chewbacca looked curiously around the room and followed Han, who gave nothing less than a scowl at the room, and Luke would’ve laughed if he weren’t holding his breath.

For one horrible moment, Luke thought that Han was totally going to bypass him, and there would’ve been his answer, but then Han walked up to them, saying a few words to Leia, who greeted him and said something along the lines of, _our pilot, Han Solo_ , then returned to her conversation. It was at this moment that Han reached into his pocket--Luke swore he was seeing stars, even though they were _inside_ the space station--and withdrew that familiar small slip of paper with worn edges. He casually offered it to Luke, who took it, breath still held, as he tried not to gaze at Han with hopeful eyes. He failed.

With that, Han called Chewbacca over and left, most likely to seek out their quarters. Luke actually had no idea what they were doing, they could have been preparing to hurl themselves out of the space station and Luke wouldn’t have known it, he was too busy clutching the note and trying to force himself to take a breath before he read it.

Okay. Whatever the answer was, it would be a fine. Yes or no. He likes me, he likes me not.

With resolute determination--and shaking hands--Luke opened the note, since Han had folded it, and looked at it, steeling his facial expression regardless of what the answer was. Yes or no--

Luke had been prepared to keep a pokerface, whether it was yes or no, but somehow, _somehow_ Han managed to give an answer that left Luke gaping at the note.

The box by yes was empty. The box by no was empty.

There was a GIANT black X smack dab in the middle of yes and no, not in either box. It was so purposefully _not_ in a box, that there was no way Han had just meant to check the No box and had done a sloppy job. No, this X was intentional.

Luke felt like crying. What was _that_ supposed to mean? What was this? This was worse than rejection, that’s what it was. Luke’s bottom lip was already beginning to quiver slightly, and he crumpled the paper in his hand, then immediately regretted it and tried to flatten it back out.

“Luke?”

Leia’s voice may have been coming from right next to him, but Luke felt like it was coming from another galaxy, it sounded so far away.

“Yes…?...could you show me to my quarters, actually? You know, since we’ll be staying here for a week, at least.”

Leia hadn’t seen the note being passed, but she could obviously tell that Luke was unhappy, probably more unhappy than she’d ever seen him, which was really saying something, as she’d _seen_ Luke unhappy. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I send you with someone? I just really need to get fully debriefed on the situation at home base…”

“I understand--that’s fine,” Luke replied, and nodded at Leia, who gave him a grateful smile and quickly reached out to grip his bicep, before sending him off with some unnamed woman.

Luke followed the woman, who was strictly professional and didn’t speak to him or offer him anything more than a tight smile. For once, he was incredibly grateful to be ignored.

They walked past Han and Chewbacca. Han tried to catch Luke’s eye, but Luke resolutely looked away and walked right past.

. . .

He had no clue what he was expecting, to be honest. Okay, that wasn’t honest. Maybe he really was inherently dishonest. Han had expected Luke to be annoyed by the note, of course, that’s why he’d done it. He couldn’t help himself, the note had been so _silly_ . How could he not be a little bit of a jerk when giving a response? He had wanted to annoy Luke a little, he liked watching him get all bent out of shape, especially when it was over the stupidest little things. It was cute. So, yeah, he’d wanted Luke to get all huffy, and pout at him, and cross his arms and roll his eyes, and fine, that was plenty patronising, Han could admit, but he hadn’t wanted to _genuinely_ upset Luke.

Which is apparently exactly what he’d done. Because it had been an entire day and Luke wouldn’t speak to him. And if there was such a thing as subtlety, then Luke was its antithesis. Luke would happily strike up a conversation with Leia, and hang around her while she worked, he would make little comments to Chewbacca _even though Luke couldn’t understand him_ , hell, he was even talking to all the strangers on the base! But all Luke would serve him was icy looks, and mostly not even those. Luke did every possible to simply avoid him altogether, and the one time Han managed to catch his eye and say something to him across the table, Luke simply stared at him with a look that could freeze lava and then walked away without responding.

“Well, I guess I should get you a collar, because you’re definitely in the dog house,” Leia had said coolly, and Han had told her to fuck off, but he didn’t even have half of his normal gusto in it. Luke had wounded his pride by blowing him off in front of Leia and probably half the damn resistance, but what was even more--he felt _guilty_. Guilt was an emotion that Han had exorcised from his life many years ago. It was a useless emotion, it just existed as a cop out way to try and find redemption without actually changing their actions.

Yet, here he was. He felt guilty as hell, and Leia’s smug look wasn’t making him feel any better, so he stomped off to work on the ship with Chewie. If he was feeling guilty, did that mean he was considering changing his actions? That was one horrifying thought, as Han had done a lot and seen a lot and nothing had ever made him want to change anything that he did.

If he hadn’t believed that Luke Skywalker had the force before, he sure as hell would now.

Twenty-nine years, he’d been shameless, unapologetic, and unwilling to apologize. Now, he was thinking about throwing all of his pride to the wind, for what? Luke Skywalker?

Han gazed across the room, to where Luke was standing, _pouting, God of course he was pouting,_ while tapping at a screen, and he felt all of his resolve melt-- _yes_ , he was throwing all of his pride to the wind for Luke Skywalker.

He took a seat on top of a tool box, waving off Chewbacca’s annoyed outcries, and grabbed a nearby pad of paper, then put a pen to it.

By the time he was finished, he had three notes. They were all a lot sloppier than Luke’s, but they would do. He honestly hadn’t handwritten anything in who even knew how long. Being a smuggler, he wasn’t keen on putting things on writing, as it defeated the purpose and put him at a lot of risk. So, fine, his handwriting was bad, but the sentiment was still the same.

  1. _Will you accept my apology?_ ___ Yes  ___ No
  2. _Can I make it up to you?_ ___ Yes ___ No
  3. _Can we try again?_ ___ Yes ___ No



He stood resolutely and set his jaw. Fine, maybe he was throwing away a lot of-- _all of_ \--his pride, not only by apologizing but also by writing these silly notes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to own it. He was going to hold his head high while delivering this, not slink around with head his hung, because he might’ve been in Luke Skywalker’s doghouse, but he was _not_ his bitch.

Slyly, he came up behind Luke, and copied the jedi’s move from the day before, reaching around and slipping the notes into Luke’s pocket. He could feel his friend tense up when he realised what was happening, but Luke didn’t turn around and yell at him or sock him in the jaw, so Han counted it as a first step to success. He didn’t push his luck, though, and retreated immediately, heading back towards the ship. Once he got there, he didn’t even pretend to be working, and instead rather shamelessly watched Luke pull the small notes from his pocket and read them one by one.

Damn jedi training, he couldn’t get anything from Luke’s facial expression… Oh, but he did see Luke looking for a pen. He swore to god, if Luke checked no, he was going to take him over one knee. If Luke thought he was going to grovel...well, he was probably right, but Han wasn’t about to admit that yet.

Quickly, he pretended to be overly invested in tightening some hubcaps, and acted as if he didn’t notice Luke approaching at all, glaring at Chewbacca when he pointed it out. He continued to work, even when he could hear Luke’s footsteps right behind him, up until Luke was literally right in front of him. Luke locked eyes with him, then took Han’s free hand and pressed the notes into his palm. Han was taken aback by the skin on skin contact, and maybe Luke was too, because he seemed to linger in the touch for longer than necessary. However, Luke’s enamour didn’t seem to last long, because he pulled his hand away and gave Han a smile so fake, that it made his teeth hurt, then flounced off, in a way that Han might’ve thought was cute in any other context.

Han watched him leave, then looked down at the notes in his hand. Luke had put a huge black X in between yes and no on every single damn one of them.

. . .

Now it was Han’s turn to be mad. How _petty_ , how _immature_ , how totally and utterly _Luke_. He couldn’t accept a perfectly good apology--the only damn apology he or anyone else was ever going to get from Han! He had to find a way to ruin it, just to have the proverbial last word. If he expected Han to beg for forgiveness now, well he just had another thing coming. Two could play at this game, and Han could ignore him just as easily as Luke could ignore him.

Just one look into those big, glistening blue eyes and he was--completely affected, completely had, _gods_ , Luke had him whipped and he didn’t even know it.

Maybe he never would know, since Han seemed to have wasted his one and only opportunity to show Luke, he thought glumly, half heartedly poking at the control system he was  working on. Chewbacca didn’t appreciate his half-assed effort too much and no less than shoved him out of the way. Han gladly allowed his counterpart to take over and decided to brood instead.

As mad as he’d been about Luke’s sassy response to his notes, he thought that maybe the jedi would warm to him again after dissing him. So far, that had not been the case. Luke was still as icy to him as before, still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, and did everything and anything to get away from him, including runs out in the icy wasteland outside the base. Han stupidly worried each and every time Luke left base, and waited impatiently for him to get back, even if Luke wouldn’t so much as look at him when he would return, snow dampening his stupid blond hair, cheeks red, and eyes glassy from the cold…

Han was miserable. He considered just up and leaving a few times, that had been the plan all along anyway. He would help Luke and Leia get back to the resistance base, then he would leave. Go back to smuggling, pay off Jabba, maybe go to a new system and try to get some work. He had never planned on staying, never planned on playing dress-up as a hero. And now Luke was mad at him and everything had gone to hell, so it was the perfect time to take his leave.

Except, when he thought about it, really thought about it, there was no place he’d rather be than where he was, even if Luke wouldn’t talk to him. At least he could still keep an eye on him, still watch him from across the room…

“You know, you _could_ talk to him. He can’t _actually_ stop you from opening your mouth. He hasn’t had that much jedi training yet.”

Han almost jumped, and glanced over at Leia, who was leaning up against the ship’s side with her arms crossed. Damn, he didn’t know what was with her and Luke. Usually no one could sneak up on him, but the two of them were always managing to do it. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Han retorted, using his deflated pride as a shield. She was being damn nosy, anyway.

Leia rolled her eyes. “Please. You think I wouldn’t notice you and Luke giving each other the silent treatment for almost forty-eight hours? A gungan would notice.”

“So what, it’s just a little male rivalry, we’re not going to cry and hug it out,” Han shot back. He was not doing this with her. He was not going to stew in his misery and allow Princess Leia Organa to speak words of wisdom in his ear--

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Han.”

Words of wisdom, indeed.

“Luke has a crush on you, even though he should’ve known better, and you just proved him right, didn’t you?” Leia’s words were savage; Han didn’t even have a sarcastic response, they hit so close to home. He just wanted her to leave, so he could brood in peace, but right when he thought she was pushing herself away from the ship so she could leave, she walked a little closer to him, her voice softening just a touch. “So, prove him wrong. Prove me wrong. Luke’s a good person--Luke’s _the best person_ , and if you really have nothing but bad intentions, then get the hell off my base. But you’re still here, and personally, I think that means something. So if you want to run, you know where the door is. If you want to stay, well… Luke’s that way.”

Han still didn’t have a reply, and maybe on his deathbed he would admit that her words affected him, but probably not even then.

As she started to walk away though, Han found himself standing and reaching forward just a little. “Hey, Princess--”

Leia turned her head slightly while walking.

“Don’t cry over me too much, you were my second choice.” That was as close as Han was getting to saying thanks.

Leia called him something very unsavoury and that was as close as she was going to get to saying you’re welcome.

A little smile was playing on his lips and he patted Chewbacca absentmindedly on the arm. “Wish me luck,” Han said, and something in his heart warmed when the wookiee did, thoughtlessly and unconditionally.

Second time’s the charm, eh? Because Han really didn’t think he had it in him for a third time.

He made a beeline for Luke, who was messing with R2-D2, fixing a circuit maybe, either way he seemed to be done as soon as he realised Han was trying to engage him, because suddenly he was standing up and had somewhere else, a very important anywhere else, to be.

“Hey kid-!”

Luke walked faster when Han actually addressed him, and Han rolled his eyes. _Oh good grief_.

“Luke!” Han followed him down the corridor that Luke was briskly walking down, reaching out and grabbing ahold of his arm.

With a fiery yank, Luke pulled himself free as he wrenched around, glaring up at Han. “Let go!”

Han rolled his eyes, and only acquiesced because Luke seemed pretty firmly planted in his spot. “We need to talk, kid--”

“We don’t need to do _anything_ , Han, you’ve made that perfectly clear!” Luke’s eyes seemed to brim a little in that moment, and at any other moment, Han would’ve crumbled, but he was on a, very heated, roll.

“Really? Maybe I started this, Luke, but you seem _damn_ determined to finish it!”

Their voices were echoing in the tunnel, but both of them were too heated to care. They were standing too close together to be having this argument and Luke had to tilt his head upwards to look at Han, and in the back of his mind, Han knew it was a total turn-on. Now was not the time for that, though, because Luke was yelling at him.

“Because I wasn’t in the mood for your pathetic excuse for an apology? I’m not interested in playing games, Han--”  
“Ha! You’re not interested in playing games, but you wrote me a _note_? Kid, you started the game, don’t get mad at me for playing--”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why? That’s what you’re acting like, Luke, you’re acting like a child--with your silly love notes and your pouting and _whining_ all the time--”

“I am _not_ whining!”

“Even though, if you would have just played along Luke, what I wanted to tell you was--what I’m trying to tell you is--Luke, where’s that damn note?”

“What note? My _silly love note?_ ” Luke set his jaw, then yelled when Han reached for him, “--hey! Get off!” Han’s hands roughly frisked over his clothes, even when Luke tried to push him away, until he found what he was looking for--Luke’s pocket. He reached inside before Luke could stop him, and pulled out the original note Luke had written, with that cursed black X in the middle, which is what had them screaming in each other’s faces in the first place. The paper was crinkled and creased and worn, but it was still in Luke’s pocket and Han hoped to the gods that it meant something. Without missing a beat, Han reached into his own pocket and pulled out a pen, wasting no time marking another X in the paper. He forcefully tossed the pen aside, and it clattered on the ground several feet away, then he tossed the small piece of paper in Luke’s face. This was not at all how he’d intended for this conversation to go, Luke just made him _so damn mad_.

Surprisingly, Luke caught the note, which now had an even larger black X in the box by yes. “Yes, Luke, okay, _yes_ ,” Han yelled at him, “yes, yes, yes, _yes--”_ After the sixth yes, Han’s hands encircled Luke’s waist and he hauled him up, pressing him against the hallway wall and the seventh yes was his mouth on Luke’s.

Luke didn’t push him away this time, though, instead he pulled him closer and whined loudly-- _I am not whining, my ass!--_ hands threading through Han’s hair and legs shifting to wrap around Han’s hips. Han pulled Luke’s hands from his hair and pinned them up against the wall--a power play that just made Luke fucking _moan_ and honestly, the whole damn resistance could have walked by and Han honest to gods wouldn’t have even noticed, because Luke was entirely preoccupying every thought in his head, every cell in his body. Luke’s lips were just as soft as they always looked and Han bit them, listening to the way that Luke whimpered, then doing it again. Luke’s fingers curled against his own, from where he had them pinned against the cold wall, and that’s when Han melted, all of his anger dripping away as something much hotter replaced it. He released Luke’s hands, laughing in his throat when they immediately found their way back to his hair, and wrapped his arms around Luke’s waist so he could move them both away from the wall.

Luke squeaked, he was unused to being manhandled, but he didn’t tell Han to put him down, and just tightened his grip a little on the other, allowing him to carry him wherever he wanted.

Which was his temporary bedroom of course--Luke’s was closer and there was no chance of Chewbacca walking in, which would admittedly be better than Leia walking in, but not much. A giant wookiee would definitely put a damper on the mood. Blindly, Luke whacked at the key code until it finally opened, and let Han carry him inside and throw him on the bed.

“Luke…”

Han growled at him and Luke moaned a little, his legs falling open unintentionally as he stared up at Han and bit his lip, waiting. Han didn’t hesitate to take Luke up on his unintentional invite, and crawled between his legs so they could resume their kiss. Luke was panting, so Han moved his kisses away from his mouth, leaving him to gasp, and trailed them down his jaw, before finally settling on his neck and sucking an eighth and ninth yes against the pale, evidently very sensitive, skin there. It wasn’t until Luke was writhing that Han stopped, pressing his lips back against Luke’s, who kissed him back very enthusiastically, opening his mouth up for him without hesitation. His tongue warm and tasted light, if that were a taste--well, it fucking was now.

Han moaned finally, his fingers curling into the pillow on either side of Luke’s head. “Luke, I’m gonna fuck you _so hard_ \--”

Luke squeaked then, and it didn’t sound as positive as it had before, so Han pulled back slightly, looking down at Luke curiously, with a hint of concern. He was already a total mess, flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, chest rising and falling with his laboured breathing, and purpling love bites blossoming down his neck. _Fuck_. “You okay, kid?” Han finally asked when he trusted himself to say something other than how desperately hot Luke looked in that moment.

“ _Yes_ , I just…” Luke bit his lip and closed his eyes and for a horrible second, Han thought he might cry. “I… I’ve never been kissed. Before this.”

Oh, _god._ Luke was a virgin, _of course_ he was a virgin. Sure, Han didn’t know what kids got up to on Tatooine, but he should’ve known that it wasn’t sex.

Han must’ve been staring at him with a look of mute horror, because Luke seemed to be scrambling for something to say. “I just--I don’t know--I don’t know what I’m doing--and--” Now he definitely thought Luke might cry, so he rolled over and moved to the other side of the bed, except that seemed to make everything even worse, as he saw Luke’s bottom lip quiver.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” he closed the distance between them and pulled Luke into his arms, and burying his nose in Luke’s soft hair. So soft… “We don’t have to…” He didn’t finish his sentence and Luke seemed a little crushed, but he didn’t argue or protest, so Han figured that for the moment, not doing anything was the safest call. “Can I stay, though?” Han added, in an attempt to make Luke feel a little better.

Luke nodded, moving his arm so it was resting on top of Han’s, then pushing his body back against Han’s-- “ _Ahh_ \--”

Shit. “Sorry, kid, I--” Am rock hard for you, because you look like a living, breathing wet dream.

Luke didn’t seem to want to talk about it, but he didn’t move away either, instead settling his hand on top of Han’s, so he didn’t push it, and simply laid behind Luke, tilting his head to kiss Luke’s hair every once in awhile.

The silence stretched on, but it was a comfortable one, as Luke stroked soft fingers against his calloused hand, and he occasionally squeezed Luke’s hipbone. When he sensed Luke might’ve been getting lulled to sleep, he finally spoke. “Y’know, I really do.”

“Hmm?”

“In the note, you asked me if I like you. I do. Like you.”

“Mmm.”

The silence returned and Han felt awkward, moving his head down to press a kiss to Luke’s shoulder.

“I like you, too, Han,” Luke replied softly, allowing his eyes to shut when he felt another kiss press against the back of his head.

. . .

Han didn’t exactly remember falling asleep, he wasn’t really sure if he ever did. One moment, Luke had said that he liked him, too, and he’d smiled, sappy as it was, and then the next moment, his hand was being moved, and moved, and _moved_ down Luke’s bottoms. Damn, how long had he been asleep? “Luke?”

Luke gave a breathy little noise in return and Han almost choked. Luke was soft, everywhere. He wanted to curl his fingers, but he also wanted Luke to be comfortable, so he gritted his teeth and left his hand as it was, nudging his nose into the back of Luke’s head. “Luke?”

“Han,” Luke replied, still breathy and a little whiny, and really, there was only so much self-restraint to be had…

“Luke, what do you want?” Han asked. He could feel Luke’s heart hammering in his chest and he tentatively curled his fingers, only to feel it beat faster.

“You, I want you, I want you to--” Shyly, Luke bit his lip. “I want you to do what you said earlier.”

_Fuck_ . Luke Skywalker was not only a legendary jedi, he was a legendary tease, too. Han took a very, _very_ deep breath before speaking, trying to keep in mind that Luke was a nineteen year old virgin who _liked him_ liked him, and asked, “Kid, are you sure? I have a feeling you just want to do this to make me feel good…”

Luke shook his head adamantly, and moved enough so that he could look at Han, and thank gods the lights were motion censored and flicked back on at the movement, because Han wouldn’t miss looking at Luke’s face for nothing. “I want you to. I want you to so bad… I just... Sorry about earlier,” Luke bit his lip again and it took a lot of self control for Han not to bite it for him. “I just--I don’t know much about this stuff. I didn’t want to exasperate you, or make you...teach me.”

Han had to hold back a scoff, because Luke’s eyes were so sincere and innocent. “ _Luke_ ,” he said, moving his free hand up cup Luke’s cheek. “I can’t teach you the ways of the force. I also can’t teach you how to sing opera or make a decent omelette. _But_ I can teach you this, and _gods_ do I want to.”

Luke blushed, but still looked a little dismayed. Han tightened his grip and Luke instantly moaned, hand reaching up to grip Han’s bicep. “And what’s more, is I want you to teach me, too.” This seemed to melt all of Luke’s fears and insecurities, so Han stroked the rest away, watching as Luke slowly writhed to the touch, toes curling and mouth falling open. “I want you to teach me everything about yourself... _inside_ and out.”

Now Luke was moaning freely and they were kissing again, Han’s tongue pushing against Luke’s mouth as his hands moved to push Luke’s bottoms down and then just completely off, then off the bed.

" _Han_ ," Luke whined, hands moving down to tug at Han's shirt. He laughed at Luke, then cooed some sweetly sarcastic apology and moved back so that Luke could undress him, and if Luke moved at a teasingly slow pace, well, he probably deserved it.

It shouldn't have made him proudly smirk when Luke tugged down his bottoms and immediately went wide-eyed, but it did. "You sure you still want me to do what I said earlier?" He teased, shifting so he could kick off the pants and rejoin Luke on the bed.

Luke levelled him with a glare, and Han laughed, and it felt good to be able to be like this with him again. The past two days had been nothing short of excruciating and Han's hand found itself between Luke's legs again, and he told Luke as much. "Never quit talking to me again, baby," Han murmured against Luke's jaw, and Luke frantically nodded. Han hummed. "Never, okay?"

"Never ever," Luke replied, trying to press his hips up but Han pushed them back down. Then he altogether quit touching Luke, which made the blond whine in protest.

Han simply grazed his oh so swollen lips with his fingers and pressed his mouth to Luke's ear. "Suck," he instructed and the eagerness Luke responded with had him hissing. Luke's tongue moved over his fingers carefully, as his mouth constricted around the digits, moaning occasionally and pressing his tongue between each finger, flicking at the tips. That mouth could really be put to better uses… But this was Luke’s first time. He would wait until at least his second or third until he pushed his head down, and told him to suck again.

When Luke said he didn’t know anything about this, he wasn’t exaggerating. His friends back home had showed him some fairly graphic material once or twice--at least Luke had thought it was graphic, but now that he was lying there, Han knocking his legs apart and pressing-- _ahh--into_ him, he didn’t really think it had been that explicit after all. Luke hadn’t been expecting the intrusion and he squirmed, whining and moving a hand to clutch at Han’s arm, feeling his tendons flex as he buried his fingers deeper inside of Luke, curving enough to make up for the pain.

“You’re so tight,” Han told him, and that was a given honestly, but he just liked to watch Luke blush.

“A- _ah_ , it hurts,” Luke breathed, pressing his head back against the pillow. His bangs were already sticking to his forehead, and he exhaled shallowly.

“Do you want me to stop?” Han asked, and Luke shook his head, but he didn’t start moving again until Luke verbally whined _no_ , with far too many syllables, at him. “Relax, then,” he instructed Luke, moving over top of him so that they could kiss again. The kisses seemed to calm Luke slightly, one of his hands moved to brace against Han’s chest, the other continuing to clutch his arm, digging his blunt nails in when Han would occasionally brush against his g-spot. Han pretended to be oblivious, fully intent on making Luke beg. Instead he just whined, finally managing out something along the lines of a _please_ , and he’d already worked Luke up to three fingers at that point, so he really did deserve a reward…

Luke moaned desperately and pressed up against him, then changed his mind and tried to press himself further onto Han’s fingers, and it was nothing short of an appealing sight, but Luke’s overeagerness still made Han laugh under his breath.

“I’m ready,” Luke insisted, trying to grind his hips down and whining in protest when Han gripped them firmly and held him in place. “ _Ahhh_ \--”

“No, you’re not,” Han replied and he could immediately see the defiance spark in Luke’s eyes. It really was adorable, and it reminded him of their earlier interactions. _Don’t get cocky._

“I am! I want you, I want you to--”  
“You want me to what, Luke?”

Luke whined again, and turned his head for a few seconds, probably trying to think of a way to come out on top in this situation, but he realised he was backed into a corner this time, and huffed out a breath. “I want you to fuck me,” he replied very softly, his breathing still laboured, and his cheeks flushed even more if that were possible. He didn’t want to know what he looked like in the moment, but Han thought that he looked worthy of a picture frame. This image would haunt him for, well, the rest of his _life_. How was he ever going to concentrate on anything ever again when he could recollect the time that Luke Skywalker was lying underneath him, blushing, breathless, and asking him to fuck him? Yeah, nothing was ever going to get his full attention again, that was for sure.

“Well, maybe since you asked so nicely…” Han replied, and Luke said his name in exasperation, then gasped when Han withdrew his fingers, already missing the sensation. “Hang on, hang on…” Han leaned off the bed to try and find his jacket, thankful to his questionable lifestyle for teaching him to always have lubrication on hand, because really, it never hurt to have around on the ship, and now, apparently, on Luke Skywalker.

Luke watched him, eyes stuck in a permanent state of wideness, and grabbed Han’s hand before he could uncap the vial. “Wait!”

Han stopped and looked up at Luke, trying not to think about how disappointed he was going to be if Luke changed his mind, because if he changed his mind that was _fine_ , there was no rush, no pressure…

“No, just hang on, I want to try something…”

Oh, thank gods.

Luke awkwardly manoeuvred himself around on the bed, and gracelessly dropped his head into Han’s lap, and even though Han figured that’s what Luke wanted to do, it still didn’t prepare him for what it would actually look like. _Hot_ . He shifted as best as he could with Luke on top of him in order to try and get them into a better position, leaning back on his elbows so that he could watch Luke, but still give him a little bit more space to work with. He gave the customary, “Luke, you don’t _have to_ ,” And was grateful when Luke completely ignored him and parted his lips. “ _Shit_ ,”

Luke was pretty unsure of what he was doing, as he’d never given or received a blow job, but it seemed like a simple enough concept. He tried to think back to the popsicles he would get with his friends in town sometimes, how he would slide them in past his lips, lick them up their entire length to make sure they didn’t drip, bite into them when he got impatient--okay, best not to do that, probably. But the licking…

Han grunted and tried to hold still, rather than giving into his desire to fuck Luke’s face, as that would most certainly choke a virgin. Luke seemed pretty determined to hold his own, though, and he felt Luke gag a few times as he tried to push down further. “Baby, hey, it’s fine, don’t-- _unf_ , _fuck_ ,”

Luke seemed proud enough of himself at soliciting those type of noises, and he sucked a little harder, glancing up with those big, blue eyes, then shutting them again and focusing on nothing but taste, sound, feel-- _oww!_

When Luke hollowed his cheeks, Han wound his fingers in Luke’s hair and tugged, only to have Luke choke almost immediately. He immediately removed his hands and gave Luke a questioning look. The blond reluctantly pulled up, wiping at his mouth with his hand, as it was coated with pre-cum and saliva, then shyly said, “I’m really tender-headed.”

It was eye-roll worthy, really, but Han was obviously too smitten, because instead of rolling his eyes, he hauled Luke into his lap and kissed him, groaning at the taste of himself on Luke’s lips. “You’re so damn cute,” he told Luke honestly, and Luke’s eyelashes fluttered as he kissed Han back again.

“Was that...okay?” he finally asked, panting against Han’s lips and wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Better than okay, kid. But don’t get cocky about it!” he was only teasing of course, and he stroked calloused fingertips down Luke’s spine reassuringly.

Luke smiled, and it was so genuine and affectionate that Han leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then flipped him over and pinned him to the mattress. Luke gave a sharp intake of breath, the mood shifting as they locked eyes and Luke spread his legs.

Han could feel his heart palpitating beneath his ribs, and he came to the realisation that he was actually a little nervous. He’d never been nervous before, at least not in between somebody’s legs, but he felt just a little twitch of nerves as he gazed down at Luke, who was biting his lip and gazing up in anticipation. This moment was special, Han knew that, and he took a long moment to lean down and kiss Luke on the mouth. Luke kissed back hungrily, hands reaching up to grip at Han’s shoulders.

“Ask me for it,” Han growled, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip. Even in the very romantic moment, he couldn’t resist the little bit of power play.

Apparently, Luke wasn’t interested in power plays in bed though, because he keened, nodding enthusiastically. “F-fuck me, please, Han, please, _fuck me_.”

Luke really didn’t need to ask twice, because Han was already groaning by the time that he said please and positioning himself. “Anything for you, princess,” he roughly said against Luke’s mouth, reaching down to hold Luke’s hips in place.

The nickname that usually annoyed Luke made him moan in this context, and he tried to move his legs and spread them a little wider. He continued to gaze up into Han’s eyes, biting his lip again and waiting…

“ _Ahhh!_ ” Even though he was anticipating the intrusion, nothing could have prepared him for the sensation. Luke’s back arched up and his fingertips dug into Han’s shoulders, as his outcry faded. His eyes had closed after the initial intrusion, but after a moment or two he opened them back up and gazed up at Han, eyes glistening.

Han was about to ask Luke if he was okay, but Luke leaned up for a kiss before he could, and they shared a chaste, yet heated kiss. After they broke apart, Han let their noses brush together, and heatedly murmured, “Okay?” against Luke’s mouth.

Luke nodded again, still biting his lip. He wriggled his hips, trying to get used to the sensation. It was as if he were being pulled apart, but Han was the only thing holding him together. He felt complete, and even though underneath his euphoria, there was an acute pain, it somehow made it feel more real. Sex had always been romanticized, when Luke was growing up, and this, the almost gritty pain, the slight fumbling they’d had along the way, this felt real, and Luke liked that a lot more than he’d ever anticipated to.

“ _Han_ …” he whined, experimentally trying to roll his hips a little, just to test out how it would feel and it made him shiver.

Han smiled, watching Luke struggled a little longer, then slowly moved out and pushed back in, keeping close track of Luke’s body language to make sure he didn’t hurt him too badly. Aside from the normal twinges of pain, Luke seemed fine, even enthusiastic to the movement, so Han was reassured that nothing had been ripped or torn, and he was free to move.

The sensation of having something move inside of him had Luke freely gasping and moaning, and it shouldn’t have been any surprise that he was vocal during sex, since he was always so vocal with his displeasures, it was only fitting that he’d be vocal with his pleasures, too. However, Luke wouldn’t stop moaning his name and if Han fed a line in his ear, Luke was only all too happy to recite it back to him, in breathy gasps, rising in octave as they continued. Luke was the picture of needy, clinging to him, legs circling his hip and nails down his back, and Han thought that he probably couldn’t ever let Luke out of his sight again, because he knew if anyone else ever got to see Luke like this, well, he’d have to shoot them. This was a side of Luke that he wanted imprinted on his mind and his only. Luke was hard and pressing against his abdomen with every movement, and Han finally took a little pity on him, and let a hand slip down between their bodies. With a few deft strokes, Luke was gone, saying his name on an endless loop and crying out, face flushing bright, and he threw his arm over his face and whined a little when he saw what a mess he’d made. Han slowed his movements and pried Luke’s arm away with his sticky hand, then brought it up to his mouth and licked it, which made Luke blush even more. “You taste as good as you look,” he told Luke, who impatiently pushed his hips forward, a non-verbal request to keep going. “You sure you want me to…” he gestured and Luke just nodded, pulling him closer and back in for a kiss.

“Yes… I want you to come inside of me,” Luke whispered heatedly, fluttering his eyelashes and at this point, Han couldn’t tell if he was playing up his innocence for effect or not, and he didn’t give a damn--he nearly came right then and there.

“Sure, baby,” Han muttered, as he began to move again, and it didn’t take longer than another minute before his fingers dug into the pillowcase and Luke’s body tensed up like a bowstring, mouth gaping open around broken moans, and Han muttered, “Luke,” and managed to pull out and roll over before collapsing onto the bed. Luke’s body went lax after that and his toes curled against the sheets, but it wasn’t long before he was rolling over and cuddling up to Han, who wrapped a tired arm around his waist.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” Han finished, after Luke trailed off, and leaned down to kiss his head. The best sex he’d ever had didn’t even feel strong enough to cover it.

They laid in silence for a while, Luke nuzzling against him and occasionally making happy little contented noises. Han looked down at him and felt a swell of affection in his chest, and moved one hand up to carefully card through Luke’s hair.

“...hey kid?”

“...”

“Do I have to write you a note to tell you that I love you?”

Luke’s heart fluttered a little, and if his rear wasn’t so sore still, he might’ve genuinely wondered if he were dreaming, asleep drooling on The Millennium Falcon. He traced his fingers up Han’s bare chest, then traced the letters N O against his skin, then playfully traced a little check mark. Han seemed placated and pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head again.

It was another five minutes of silence before Luke spoke.

“I love you, too, Han.”


End file.
